


hold my body down

by Ferus_Domina



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A cottage on the South Downs, Aftercare, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Apocawasn't, Rope Bondage, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 12:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferus_Domina/pseuds/Ferus_Domina
Summary: "Aziraphale’s voice was soft and infinitely fond, and he looked down at Crowley so proud and adoringly that the demon could almost, almost forgive the fact that he hadn’t come for the last two hours and was probably about to go quite insane."Turns out that flash ginger demons all tied up in string is one of Aziraphale's favorite things.





	hold my body down

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [iselmyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iselmyr/pseuds/Iselmyr) for beta-ing this for me. You can thank her directly for prompting me to expand the aftercare. Which is always a good idea.

“Now, dear boy. Hold on for me for just a bit longer, won’t you? There you are, excellent…” Aziraphale’s voice was soft and infinitely fond, and he looked down at Crowley so proud and adoringly that the demon could almost, _almost_ forgive the fact that he hadn’t come for the last two hours and was probably about to go quite insane.

That was a lie, as Crowley was sure that at this point he could forgive Aziraphale blessed near anything, so long as he never stopped looking at Crowley that way, or saying his name with a reverence generally reserved for the Almighty Herself. He at least resolved that he would probably be frustrated with the angel for a good ten minutes. At least. He might even sulk.

But that was rather difficult to do as things stood, which he was not doing, naked on their bedspread with that ridiculous cabbage rose pattern that Aziraphale had fallen in love with, with his arms bound behind his back so that his hands framed his ass, his legs folded at the knee and tied open “because you’re just so _bendable_ darling, you look _lovely_ ,” with one of the larger (though by no means the largest) of the startlingly extensive collection of toys Aziraphale had been acquiring buzzing away inside of him, and nothing but his own willpower keeping him from coming with every word Aziraphale whispered, and every feather light touch to his weeping cock. And he just stood over the demon, touching him so sweetly, as if Crowley were as precious as one of his first editions. Just as likely to crumble if he was touched too roughly or quickly. He pushed a lock of sweat damp hair off his forehead, combing his fingers through with a slow tenderness that spoke of centuries of wanting to do precisely that.

“Angel…” Crowley leaned into the touch, the need in his voice raw, his back arching as Aziraphale skimmed soft fingers over the head of his cock again, craving friction, craving more of the pale haired angel that still hadn’t even taken off his blessed waistcoat and that stupid, lovely bowtie. Only to have the hand pull away, one manicured finger waving in admonishment as Aziraphale tutted at him. As if Crowley were a child trying to sneak sweets before dinner. The demon sagged back against the bed with a groan. “Angel _please_ ,” he all but begged, golden eyes wide as he watched the angel, _his_ Angel, the only thing worth braving the wrath of Heaven and Hell for, watched him consider. Watched his lips slowly curl in a way that on anyone else would seem sweet, and it was, oh it was, but Crowley also had seen his Angel smile often enough to know what it meant. He wasn’t done with him.

“Now really Crowley, I _know_ you can hold out for longer than _this_ , dearest. But, since you’ve done so well for me… I suppose you can have a little something.” And he leaned in, one hand resting on Crowley’s chest to keep him in place as he gave him a kiss. It was, like most everything about Aziraphale, soft and sweet, tasting slightly of chocolate and smelling like old books and tea. The demon’s lips parted, slitted eyes slipping closed, trying to draw him into a deeper kiss, he could _feel_ how much the angel wanted it, and Crowley was indeed rewarded as Aziraphale made a soft eager sound into his mouth, deepening the kiss with a quiet little moan. A moan that got markedly less quiet as Crowley sucked on his tongue and continued for several long moments. Crowley almost thought he had him, that this time, just maybe, Aziraphale would let him come before he had been reduced to an absolute wreck. He could feel how much the angel was enjoying it, in the way his hand trembled and pressed down on his chest, and the cup of his other hand against Crowley’s face. But in the end it wasn’t to be, and Aziraphale pulled away, his breathing a bit heavy, yes, his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink, looking at Crowley as if he was a tasty bit of cake that he was in the midst of devouring.

“Well, that was quite nice, don’t you think?” Aziraphale licked his lips, pink tongue running over them as if Crowley had left some sweet taste behind. He stepped away, knowing Crowley was following him with his eyes as he finally, finally took off that blessed waistcoat, draping it over the plush upholstered chair that sat under his second favorite window, leaving him only in his shirtsleeves, which he was turning up with the sort of fussy neatness that characterized everything about him. Crowley’s gaze followed him, even as the slight shift it caused made the toy inside him brush against something particularly lovely that made him jerk and pant. Some might think it silly that a demon who had witnessed the vast array of human carnality could be so entranced by an exposed wrist. Crowley would be more than happy to invite anyone who felt that way to fuck all the way off. 

It took several long, agonizing moments for Aziraphale to actually roll his sleeves up past his elbows, including a pause as he took the remote for the toy from his pocket (not that the toy had come with a remote, in fact it hadn’t even vibrated when Aziraphale had purchased it, but it was amazing what an angel and a demon could do with a bit of imagination) and made the blessed thing start wriggling inside of him, which had made it quite a bit harder for Crowley to concentrate on anything other than how good it felt, and trying not to come before he was supposed to. 

“Do make sure it doesn’t fall out,” he admonished, turning back to the small cabinet that he called his “toy chest,” even if he blushed when he said it. “We don’t want a repeat of last time, now do we?”

A repeat of last time being when Crowley had been so careless as to let said squirming toy fall out, which of course had given Aziraphale the perfect excuse to use two of his smaller ones–“hopefully you can keep _these_ in, dear boy, will that be easier for you?”–and then he’d made some tea. And drank an entire cup, sipping delicately as Crowley writhed and begged on the bed.

“No, no nonononono it’s fine, I’m fine Angel...” Crowley shuddered, his back arching as he bit his lip, anything to give himself something to think about other than how tortuously good it all felt.

“Excellent,” Aziraphale turned around with that bright smile of his, sweet as the sun emerging from behind the clouds on a summer’s day, holding a coil of rope, the one in the deep red that he loved on Crowley so much.

“More rope? Aziraphale please…” Crowley licked his lips as he watched the angel shake out the coil, and the next thing he knew he was being gently flipped over so he was face down, and at least there was finally some pressure on his cock, but it wasn’t any better, not with Aziraphale’s hand on his ass holding him steady, shushing him like he was an impatient hound. 

“Shush, Crowley, just be good for me, there’s a dear. And as much as I do enjoy watching you ah, enjoy yourself on the bedspread, do contain yourself.” And then he was doing something cunning with the rope that Crowley could feel, but couldn’t quite follow, threading it through the bindings that already wrapped around his arms and legs. A few moments after that and Crowley was being hoisted off the bed, not far, just far enough that the only thing touching the bedspread was his cock, hard and weeping and now with only the soft fabric to stimulate it. He let his head sag with a low moan, the movement of his hips causing him to sway softly back and forth. It was more torment than relief, feeling the fluid on his cock smear over the bedspread, but he also had a hard time stopping his traitorous hips from moving. They knew what they wanted, even if this wasn’t the way to get it.

“There now, none of that.” Aziraphale stilled the swaying with a hand on the back of Crowley’s neck, letting his nails lightly scrape over the base of his scalp for a moment. “I’ve something much better for you darling.” There was the rustling of fabric, and then gentle fingers twined through his hair, pulling his head up so he was staring directly at Aziraphale’s cock. Finally, finally he had taken his clothes off, and Crowley could see the whole of him, the soft roundness of his belly and thighs, and the way his blush had crept down his neck to the top of his chest. Aziraphale always seemed shy about being naked, no matter how much Crowley worshipped the softness of him, how often he held him close and admired him. “That lovely kiss gave me an idea, since you seem to want something to ah, suck on so badly. I wanted to oblige you.” As if getting to suck his cock was the greatest favor Aziraphale could grant him. Which, to be fair, Crowley was rather keen on doing.

Despite what might have been the popular conception of 1) demons in general and 2) Crowley in particular–or at least the impression which Crowley himself hoped to foster–he hadn’t really been around too much human genitalia in his time on Earth. He only had it himself when he felt like it (he’d found both sets remarkably fun to play around with) and didn’t tend to bother with humans because it just… felt wrong. Aziraphale now, that was an entirely different basket of apples. Crowley wasn’t sure entirely where he’d gotten his idea of what a human cock should look like, it was too small to have been from porn, but there was no way to find out other than asking directly (a subject Crowley wasn’t quite sure he was prepared to broach) and so he simply… enjoyed it. Enjoyed how lovely it was, how smooth and neat, just like Aziraphale himself, as he set himself to the task at hand, licking from root to tip, letting his tongue slip around the head before he slowly took it into his mouth, citrine eyes turned upward as he bobbed his head, watching Aziraphale intently.

Aziraphale smiled down at Crowley and made the same sound he had made the first time he’d tasted chocolate ganache, a little half moaning sigh, his eyelids fluttering closed and then back open to look down at Crowley. He pushed a lock of coppery hair out of Crowley’s eyes with a fond smile, his own breath hitching just a bit as Crowley swallowed him to the root. “That’s… so good of you, my dear. So… so lovely… just like that.”

Under normal circumstances Crowley might have smirked, and he at the very least felt pleased with himself, even with his mouth full of angelic cock. There was something special about Aziraphale when he was pleased with something, when a sensation made him forget himself. It didn’t really matter to Crowley what it was, food, music, a rare book, sex, which meant he often found himself trying to get that particular sort of reaction out of his angel. Like right now, as he took the length of him in and swallowed around it, eyes turned upward to watch Aziraphale’s face. To watch him shudder as Crowley did something ineffable with his tongue, followed by a gasp and a jerk of his hips, hard enough that Crowley rocked back in the ropes, which only seemed to spur the demon further. Aziraphale slid his hands into Crowley’s hair, gently rocking his hips, a little gasp or a moan or a soft “oh!” slipping out when Crowley did something particularly nice with his tongue, with the shape of his lips. 

He could feel Aziraphale was getting close, the way his hands shivered and the way his hips would stutter in their thrusting, the whimper in the back of his throat when Crowley’s clever tongue wrapped around the head of his cock, stroking him in concert with the movement of his mouth. He wanted the angel to come in his mouth, not only was it so lovely to be able to watch Aziraphale come apart while he was (mostly) in possession of his wits, but the angel was often more charitable in his afterglow.

But then he felt one hand leave his head, and he only had a moment to prepare when he heard the delicate snap of fingers, and the vibrator redoubled it’s efforts, tormenting his prostate and making him shudder from his scalp to his toes, any concentration he’d had shattered as he moaned. “Let me, darling.” And bless him, yes Aziraphale sounded winded, but he also sounded amused. He knew what wiles Crowley had been up to and, well, when you see a wile, you thwart. And Crowley was well thwarted as soft fingers twined into his hair and the angel began rocking into his throat in earnest, all but fucking his mouth, and oh Crowley let him, every press of his cock in his mouth shoving an involuntary whimper out of him. And listening to Aziraphale, one could think words like darling and dearest were the filthiest of epithets the way he whispered them over Crowley’s head, the way he called him such a _good, dear boy, just a little more, that’s it_. And then he was sliding his dick out, slick and hot from Crowley’s mouth, and the demon whined, trying to lean forward, to take it back in, like a plant towards the sunlight.

The vibrator was still working away inside of him, and Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing heavy as he shuddered and moaned. “Please… Angel please I can’t, I can’t last…” A tear squeezed it’s way past, dropping onto the bedspread and Aziraphale crouched down, wiping it away with a soft smile. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright. 

“Shhh, shh you’ve done so well for me Crowley, look at you. So beautiful, just for me.” He leaned in and kissed his lips softly, then his cheekbone and the shell of his ear, whispering to him soft and sweet. “Come for me darling. Let me see you come apart, just for me.” He reached under Crowley, taking hold of his hot and leaking cock, stroking him the few times it took before Crowley found himself swan diving over the edge. He cried out, every muscle going tense as he came over Aziraphale’s hand, making a mess of the cabbage-rose bedspread, and not caring one single bit. He was rather beyond caring about anything other than how good that felt, and how quickly the vibrator was moving from good to too much to hurt. He whined, sagging in the ropes as it switched off.

“There there, you did such a good job, darling. Here, let me get you down.” Gently Crowley was lowered to the bed and the ropes undone, Aziraphale massaging his limbs and rubbing over the marks the rope had left behind. Of course, it wasn’t strictly necessary, Crowley could easily heal the bruises and marks the rope left behind, but it felt so nice. To be taken care of, and touched lovingly, and not have to worry about a damned thing other than this, here, and now.

A blanket, old and soft and (of course) tartan, was miracled out of the chest at the foot of their bed and wrapped around Crowley. The small puddle was taken care of as well with a wave of a hand, and Crowley was held close to the soft expanse of Aziraphale’s chest. He snuggled in close, nuzzling his collarbone, not in a sexual way, but just for the comfort, for the touch and the smell of the angel’s bare skin. He laid there as Aziraphale murmured sweet encouragements to him, told him how lovely he had been, how very good and sweet, and he felt a warm glow fill him that he thought, once he had left Heaven, he would never feel again. It was a lie that demons couldn’t feel love. It was just so much easier for the general emotional noise to block it out. Crowley would never have believed, six thousand and some years ago, that the closest he would ever feel to Heaven would be a little cottage in England. That it would be better, so much better. That he would remember what it was like to feel loved. He could feel his throat start to get tight, and he buried his face further into Aziraphale’s chest, one hand sliding out of the blanket cocoon to wrap around him and tug him closer. The tears came, but they were quiet, more of a release valve than anything else. The angel smiled at him indulgently, pressing a soft kiss to Crowley’s forehead, running a hand over his back and humming a soft little tune that was mostly nonsense.

“Here my dear, have some water.” The water was crisp and so cold it was nearly ice, and Crowley gulped it all down greedily and mumbled a tired thank you after. “Don’t mention it.” Aziraphale stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead, holding him close until the demon fell asleep, exhausted and bruised and feeling so very loved.


End file.
